Nipping the Juice
Some of the last few stories I've offered have been relatively short stand- alone tales. This is another one of them. It has a little bit of an ouch with a smile I hope but there were no wives' ass' set on fire in this one. I like good criticism but I simply smile and delete asinine comments.
Claire looked at me with wide open doe eyes and her jaw slacked in disbelief. She always knew I was never one to make a pronouncement without giving it considerable thought. It's a family trait I suppose. My father Joseph P Wells Sr. was renowned for his pregnant pauses before committing to words. Jr. might not be as liberal with the flair for drama but my conversation was always measured as I spoke.
"Joe, you have to be kidding me! I can't imagine you actually doing such a thing." She stated with just a hint of hesitation in her voice.
"Claire, well, the thing is, I've been talking with Tommy Millhouse and we've got a lot in common. He had the solution to a similar problem that I thought was quite appropriate." I replied back to her.
I tossed the sticky baggie onto the kitchen table in front of her with the bloody evidence of Tommy's solution encased inside.
"Oh my God!" Claire screamed and ran from the room and up the stairs before closing the bedroom door shut.
Tommy had paid a visit to Jimmy Juice, as we always called him, and gave him a heads up demonstration of his own an hour ago. I thought Jimmy's pickup was traveling a bit fast when he went by a few minutes earlier but Claire never so much as noticed.
I stared at the baggie on the table, chuckling to myself thinking 'I wonder if that would hurt like hell'.
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Claire has always been a fine looking woman and always will be but with beauty, as with honey, come the flies. As long as I've been married to her, twenty years this summer, she has relished the art of the flirt and there have been no shortage of amorous minded men willing to give her as much practice as she might desire. She is good at it too, very good and at this point in our marriage she has become too good.
When a woman flirts there is a method to the madness that most men don't understand. She is looking to polish the gild, so to speak, to buttress her perception of 'still having what it takes'. The man on the other hand is seeking to, well, basically get his dick as deep in that polished gild as he can, as often as he can and will smile and say just about anything to get there. That's probably being too simplistic but it makes the point.
Where flirting becomes 'too good' as with Claire, is when her practiced art form becomes an almost insatiable quest on the part of the man who is in fact an artful seducer in his own right. Two world class artists going at it raises the stakes as well as the risks the other will take to continue.
I suppose the stakes were first raised at a backyard barbeque at Tommy Millhouse's place just down the road from ours. We've known Tommy and his wife Millie for almost as long as we've been married. They bought the farm next to us a couple years after we moved into this place. There were several neighbors and some folks from out to town that came out that afternoon and evening.
One of the neighbors had a small rental house on the backside of his property that he had recently leased to a fellow from New Jersey, a guy named Jimmy Falcone. He was a few years younger than Tommy and me but we had enough in common to partake of his homemade shine on occasion. Other than that we didn't really know much about him other than contrary to the image he liked to project, he wasn't a mob guy. He was a small tools salesman but he made good shine hence his nickname Jimmy Juice. Plus it sounded 'mobbish' so he never did object to it.
One of the things about Jimmy was that he could pour on the charm. I guess as men go he was eye candy for the ladies. He spent inordinate amounts of time at the gym in town and invested in an assortment of expensive colognes. So, the guy was mid- thirties, good looking and by some accounts could talk the panties off the town librarian.
Jimmy was there at Tommy's barbeque as was Claire and by the time the early evening began its approach they had become almost inseparable as a threesome with Millie. Claire would break away for a bit to make sure my intake of booze was keeping up with her expectations, not that I minded her ministrations. Millie was doing the same for Tommy.
I should mention that I'm a pretty easy going laid back fellow who has nothing but the complete utmost trust in his wife. It doesn't bother me in the slightest to know she's chatting with a man, laughing along with him or dancing with him. Isn't trust what a marriage is founded on? That doesn't mean I'm not observant of the things around me. I trust Claire to keep those pesky foreign swimmers out of her cute little tail. It's the other man I never trust.
Jimmy wasn't trustworthy, not by a long shot. Claire was hitting the shots pretty heavily and things were getting touchy feely there towards the end of the evening. Now, I was liquored up pretty good but as I've said, I trust my wife.
Later that evening, Claire nearly fucked me to death. I had not seen her that horny in years. Something was definitely different. I sure didn't complain. It was the best sex imaginable. When we were done, we both just went comatose on the bed and didn't move until morning.
She was singing to herself when I walked into the kitchen and had a pan of English sausages and eggs ready for me when I sat down. I wouldn't have noticed except Claire never sings; she can't hold a decent note to save herself and she knows it.
"You sure sound happy this morning, Claire." I mentioned.
"I'm always happy around you, Darling." She replied.
Well, yeah but she never sang like that. She was real happy around Jimmy the previous night too. I made a mental note of that and filed it away for future reference.
A couple days later Claire let me know she was spending the afternoon over at Millie's and said she would be back in time for supper. I didn't think anything of it until I headed into town for a couple sacks of seed and as I drove by the Millhouse farm I could see Claire's car and parked right along it was Jimmy Juice's pick-up truck. Tommy was at work out at the hardware store. It was another mental note to file.
"So how was your afternoon with Millie?" I asked her over supper.
"Oh, nothing unusual, just girl stuff you know" was her reply.
There was no mention of Jimmy Juice.
That evening Claire again fucked me senseless but she did something she had never done before. She swallowed. That surprised the hell out of me but I didn't say anything. She always spit it out before so this was something new, something out of her ordinary.
Later that week I was driving back from the grocery store and while coming past the Millhouse farm I saw Jimmy's truck again. Claire's car wasn't there but neither was Tommy's truck. I didn't say anything to my wife when I got home but it was pretty clear Jimmy was making himself pretty comfortable in the farmhouse next door on a pretty frequent basis.
I started seeing a pattern develop. Claire would get together with Millie 2 or 3 times a week and just as often she would come home and later those evenings she would want to fuck me silly. I didn't complain because I had no reason not to but my mental tickler file was beginning to fill a folder all its own.
Things got a bit stickier when Tommy came home from work earlier than expected one afternoon while Claire was visiting and found Jimmy there as well. The three of them had opened up a bottle of wine and were socializing out on the patio. From what I understand, there wasn't any outward familiarity going on but Tommy wasn't too happy about Jimmy hanging out with his wife while he was at work. He didn't trust Millie as much as I trusted Claire, apparently.
Later that evening, he made it clear to Millie that entertaining Jimmy Juice in his house when he wasn't around to ensure her 'virtue' was not something that was going to continue. He never told me that he thought Millie was fucking him but I knew he had his suspicions.
About the same time I finally went onto day shift at the plant after working 2nd shift for the past three years. I had been looking forward to it for a long time so I thought it would be an opportune time to take the missus out to dinner. We didn't lack the opportunity in the past especially since our daughter had graduated from high school a couple years earlier and left us empty nesters for most of the year while she was at college. This was just as good a time to go out as any other.
We pulled into the Rooster House restaurant and lounge early enough to get a good table and while waiting for our drinks, I caught a glimpse of Jimmy Juice out the corner of my eye. He was sitting at the bar with a very married lady I knew from working with her husband at the plant. They lived a town over from here so I suppose she might have just stopped in to have a drink. Jimmy looked like he was playing her for something else though.
Claire noticed him too and I don't think she caught my eye on her own as her gaze lingered on our local Casanova so I broke the calm.
"Isn't that our own Jimmy Falcone over there making sweet time with Denny Peters' woman?" I asked her rather casually.
"Oh, they are just talking, Joe. You know how Jimmy is. He's a talker with everybody." She replied while glancing up at me before returning her gaze.
She has a way of licking her lips subconsciously when she is on flirt alert and her gloss was being licked right off onto her tongue at breakneck speed. I remember thinking if I stuck a finger up her pussy it would probably have burst a dam. But, like I've said all along, I trust my wife.
By the time our eats arrived Jimmy was on full prowl and had Mrs. Peters on the dance floor up close and personal in the lounge. Claire and I enjoyed our dinner and when we settled she suggested we take a stroll in the lounge for a drink and a couple dances. We did just that and took a small table closer to the bar.
I think I had danced with Claire for a couple songs before Jimmy and Ms. Debbie Peters made their way over to us and Claire invited them to our table. Next order of business was for Jimmy to get my wife on the floor leaving me with my co-workers wife at my side. It was a bit awkward at first.
"Denny working tonight?" I asked.
